


Cleansing Passion

by zulija



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 19:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16771015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulija/pseuds/zulija
Summary: Blackwall and Trevelyan have a little heart to heart. Just a little story for all Blackwall/Trevelyan lovers out there!





	Cleansing Passion

“My lady," he whispers, forehead leaned against hers, his breath tickling and warming her face.

Naminé slides her hands down his shoulders and rests them on his chest. Her fingers dig into the rough fabric of his attire, unable and not wanting to let go.

“Blackwall..." she whispers heavily, tilting her head back to gaze into his eyes. “Stay with me."

He brushes her hair from the side of her face with the back of his fingers and Naminé leans into his touch, her eyes closed.

“What more do you desire?" he asks suddenly and she looks at him. “You already own my heart and everything I am."

“And yet you resist."

Blackwall's brows furrow, summoning a shadow over his strong features.

“It's... not that easy," he retorts, then takes a step away before he starts to walk a line up and down, his hands moving in explanation. “This... whatever this is between us, it is not supposed to even exist." Then he spins around to face her, “These lives are not ours to live. There is so much at stake."

Naminé clenches her hands hard and grits her teeth as she tries to talk some sense into him, “Are we not allowed to experience happiness?"

His expression turns full of pain as he looks at her, his eyes gleaming with sadness as he whispers, “You are the Herald of Andraste, the whole world depends on you. Me?" He takes a careful step in her direction, getting yet a little bit closer to her while he adds, “I am a nobody; unworthy of everything you  _ have _ and  _ are _ ."

“Blackwall..."

She can't bare it any longer. She erases the space between them and her hands grasp his possessively as the lump in her throat grows. She knows the feelings of the man standing in front of her and it hurts immensely to know he is still putting up a fight against their happiness. Maker knows why he is afraid to give in, but she decided long ago not to give up; her heart soars whenever she sees him, her world stops spinning whenever he is hurt in battle. Warden Blackwall has long captured her heart and she is going to make him see exactly that.

“Titles have no meaning to me," she whispers, “I care for you because of who you are as a man, not because of your name or heritage."

He looks so confused and so full of awe at her, Naminé isn't sure if she said the wrong thing. His eyes run across her face as she considers ways how to win him over. But then he kisses her, fast and unexpected.

She needs a second to realize what happened, but quickly leans into the kiss and closes her eyes. Her heart soars. Numerous feelings she can't even name explode within Naminé as Blackwall pulls her harder against him. She is overwhelmed, happy, excited, and immensely in love. But then he stops and pulls away roughly, but doesn't leave the spot in front of her.

“Maker..." she gasps for air as she holds onto him.

His grip on her arms tightens, as though he is afraid to let her go. After swallowing hard, he pants, “This is wrong. Please, my lady… I need you to end this, because I  _ can’t _ .” His voice shakes a little at the end. The pain in his voice tears at her heart, but no matter how hard he tries to stop the ever growing affection between them, Naminé could never oppose it.

Naminé looked up at him then, hoping that all he needs is a look in her eyes for him to realize that she couldn’t live with the idea of them not being together.

Clearing her throat, Naminé looks deeply into his eyes as she admits, “Never,” only to earn a defeated sigh from him.

“You will regret this, my Lady,” he tries to reason with her again, but Naminé could already feel that she broke his resolve.

To prove him wrong, she leans in and places a soft, almost innocent kiss on his lips. When she withdraws, she smiles up at him and asks, “Will you regret this?”

Warden Blackwall smiles at her and her stomach flips. His eyes stare into hers as he gently nudges her backwards, still holding her arms. To answer her earlier question he lowly replies, “No, it is perfect," and then she feels the hard stone of the railing pressing into her lower back.

Naminé gasps when she realizes she is trapped between him and the railing, but relaxes when he lowers his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. She closes her eyes, breathes him in, touches him everywhere. His hands wander from her waist up to her back. Both repeat the pattern, both too hungry for each other. His lips leave her mouth to mark her neck, her jaw, to nibble her ear.

The numerous sensations and feelings deafens her. All she can smell is him, all she can feel is him and his touches. The problems of the Inquisition become nonexistent. The attempt to murder the Empress suddenly matters not as much as it should.

His kisses become softer and slower until he slowly pulls away. Naminé slowly returns to the here and now. Her eyes open and she realizes she is sitting on the railing with Blackwall standing between her open legs as he rests his hands on her thighs lovingly.

He peers at her from under his eyelashes, the look sexy enough to drive her mad, as he says softly, “My lady," but Naminé interrupts him with a chuckle in her voice.

“Aren't we a little past formalities?" she asks jokingly to which he laughs lightly.

But his expression sombers almost immediately and she becomes speechless by the intensity of his eyes. His voice is low and husky when he says, “This is no proper place to pleasure a lady," and Naminé almost squeals in excitement.

He gently picks her up in his arms. The two never break eye contact as they travel the suddenly too distant path to her bed. Once there he gently lowers her on the mattress. Her heart threatens to burst as she watches him climb on top of her, the intensity of his eyes burning the skin off her bones.

Soft, lazy kisses are exchanged while his fingers languidly undo button after button. Her own fingers mimic the same process on his attire, though with a little more haste. Still, her robe opens first and his hand immediately travels from her stomach up to cup her breast. Her back arches in response and the task to undress him suddenly becomes forgotten.

“You are so beautiful," he whispers against her ear, his hand instinctively moving under her breastband to find the hard peek craving for attention.

A soft, almost desperate moan grants him all the approval and direction he needs. His fingers feather over the hard peek before he gently squeezes it. She tilts her head back as his mouth wanders to her jaw, her throat and her chest. A hiss escapes her as his hand moves lower until he finds the fastenings of her trousers. Her pants open quickly and he steals a second to peel the glove off his hand before he returns to the task at hand.

Eagerly he pushes his fingers inside her underwear and she squeals in surprise. Blackwall stops and looks at her; there is concern in his eyes mixed with an equal level of amusement to her reaction.

“Is something the matter?" Though he asks innocently, Naminé can't help but hear the mischief in his voice too.

After swallowing hard she admits, stuttering, “N-no, everything's okay."

But she can already tell her lie has no effect on him. His hand disappears from her aching south and he leans back a little. He looks at her as though the answers are hidden somewhere in the lines of her face and he is careful not to misread them.

“My lady, if there is something I have done to upset you..."

Naminé sighs and leans her weight on her elbows. Her eyes dart to the ceiling because she is unable to look into the eyes of the man she has fallen for.

Sighing sharply, she tries to speak but her heart just beats so fast. Her body starts to tremble and Blackwall inches closer to her.

“My lady..." the concern is audible in his deep voice.

“The thing is..." she finally manages to speak, “I have -- this is... well..." 

Her cheeks turn red in embarrassment. Quickly she moves away from the bed and closer to the windows, closing her attire in the process. She hugs herself as she stares out the window, taking in the different shapes and sizes of the mountains surrounding Skyhold.

The snowflakes dance through the air and paint beautiful mosaics on the windows. For a moment she forgets she is not alone and she leans her weight on the nearby wall.

Just then warm hands embrace her waist from behind, but the suddenness doesn't startle her. Her back molds against his chest and she releases a long breath. His chin finds support on her shoulder and the rough ends of his beard slightly sting into the skin of her cheek. But Naminé couldn't be more relaxed, and the earlier fear to reveal him her secret suddenly fades.

In this moment she feels courageous enough to tell him what is too heavy for her to admit. “I haven't slept with anyone before. Being a daughter of nobility doesn't give you much freedom to explore life, you know?"

A deep sigh escapes him and she feels him relax as well. His warm, rough hands cover her own and he squeezes them slightly. He places a kiss on her cheek but his face remains there as he breathes her in. “There is no shame in that, my lady," he whispers against her skin and her gaze turns distant.

“Then why do I feel ashamed?" she wonders, whispering.

His voice turns slightly scolding when he summarizes, “Would you rather have slept with dozens of boys in your youth?"

The thought is preposterous to her and she immediately retorts, “No, of course not." After she swallows nervously, she adds, “I just never found the right person to do that with."

“And you deem me the right person?"

Gently she turns in his arms to face him. Her eyes are soft matching her voice as she admits, “Yes, Warden Blackwall, because you own everything I am."

“My lady," she watches his throat work as he swallows, “You render me speechless with your honesty."

“Too bad," she allows herself a joke, “because I do like your voice."

His deep chuckle rumbles through his chest before he leans down to kiss her. Her arms glide up his chest until she wraps them around his neck. The kiss grows eager and deeper until Blackwall interrupts it and Naminé almost swears. Still, a growl of disapproval escapes her and Blackwall chuckles as he raises her chin with his fingers.

“If that is your desire, my lady Trevelyan, then you shall have it. But not tonight."

Naminé blinks in surprise and confusion, hundreds of question floating through her mind in that very second. Luckily he quickly clarifies as he notices her blank stare, “I want it to be perfect for you; a night to remember."

He takes both her hands in his and holds them tenderly as he requests, “So please, give it a little more time."

There is no harm in what he requests of her but the honesty behind his words, the tenderness behind his actions, causes her heart to do a double flip. Her eyes glisten like two stars as she stares into his. There are words she wants to pronounce but they die in her suddenly too dry throat.

With a quick peck to her lips he wishes her a good night before he retreats from her chambers.

Maker, this man... she places a hand over her thundering heart as she tries to calm down. There are no words to describe just how hard she fell for him. All she wants is to be around him, to listen to his voice; to get to know him completely, to know every aspect of his life and learn his thoughts. Days without seeing him are dull and lifeless, and not even the reports can keep her away from him for too long.

Nothing matters to her more than Blackwall. For all she cares even Corypheus can wait in line until she has her long desired moment with him.

He makes her happy, maybe even a little reckless because all she can think about, even in battle, is him. He always tells her not to worry for him but she would always worry. It lies in her nature to protect the ones she cares for; like a lioness protecting her cubs.

Her eyes are still glued to the staircase, thinking about nothing but him and how she already misses him. Her heart begs seek him out, to steal just a few more minutes with him, but her mind reasons that it is late.

With a heavy heart, she decides to get some rest as well. As soon as the first rays of sun arise behind the horizon though, she would be on her way to him. To spend as much time with him as possible.


End file.
